Volvo's and other whoredom.

December 21, 2004

In the past, I haven't given much thought to Volvo's, really. Yeah, they're nice cars, but still if I saw one driving along beside me, I probably wouldn't have noticed it at all.

But now.. now they're all taunting me. Every single Volvo I see, it's like they're all staring at me, singing, "Why didn't he email me back? Why is he just not that into me? Why can't he see how great a couple we would be? Why didn't he sit next to me on Sunday? Why hasn't he called me at all in the past 3 weeks since I've given him my number? When the new year comes and everything has settled down, is he going to call me then?"

How is it that I have fallen for a guy who, of all things, drives a Volvo? How is it that I have fallen for a nice christian young man who is prematurely balding, wears strange trendy shoes, a gigantic Texas A&M college ring, and who drives a Volvo? None of my other boyfriends have possessed these qualities. Most of my boyfriends never even graduated from high school, much less college. He's in insurance, for fuck's sake! Insurance! Where is my rock star, my rugby player, my rodeo cowboy?

I know this is repetitive, but damnit! Church Boy is just a constant thought in my mind, and unlike Farm Guy, and unlike unobtainables like William Petersen or Axl Rose, I felt like he was there for the taking! I thought that we were exchanging appropriate vibes full throttle, but in the past couple of weeks, ever since I asked him to call me, basically, there's been a total lack of interest from his end. Well, not totally.. there was the lovely warm phone conversation we had for 6 minutes and 22 seconds on Thursday, but perhaps that was just a fluke. Perhaps... we were just not meant to be.

Well, whatever. I will find out the answer to this cosmic question at some point in the future, that I am confident of. I don't know if it's going to be through the easy way or the hard way, but oh yes, I will find this out. Meanwhile, I will continue to obsess over Volvo's and when I'm shopping, I will continue to find things that I think will be perfect for him and then sigh when I remember that we aren't quite at the Christmas shopping stage with each other yet.

*sigh*

In other news, I joined the throngs of capitalist commercial whore mongers/pod people/fucktards known as Christmas Shoppers last night at the mall. Man, we are a bunch of whores, aren't we? Shopping for crappy American items that the person we buy them for will appreciate for approximately 5 seconds and then promptly forget about, all while we're talking on our cell phones and not having any disregard for common courtesy.

Not that I have any feelings on the subject, and not that I wasn't a total and complete participant.

I'm a little depressed today, a little down in the dumps about life, and about how even though I am determined not to live a normal and dull life, that is exactly where I am heading, and that scares me like you wouldn't believe.

I'm out.